Cat Killed the Curiosity
by BowtieJunkie
Summary: A fleeting glimpse of the love and frightening obsession the daughter of a villain develops for a flawed hero—a hero that isn't sure if he should kiss her or put an arrow through her brain.
1. The Game

**Something I promised to post for a friend awhile back. Until I get the muse back for Young Justice characters, I'll leave you with a couple of chapters of my little side project "Cat Killed the Curiosity", a little play on the saying "curiosity killed the cat". **

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This new game she'd invented took a measure of skill, something he'd ensured himself he had plenty of. Nothing to worry about. Not today or tomorrow. But he could feel her watching from the shadows at times when they weren't playing the game. He'd turn and breathe deeply, trying to catch a glimpse or a whiff of what he knew waited. Sometimes he could find a shadow or the lingering scent of perfume, or maybe a shredded bit of fabric. Occasionally there would be a dull blade or the shell of a bullet.

That day there was nothing. No sign of her at all, not even a hint. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or angry. Surely she wouldn't abandon her game on a day he was ready to play. Not so soon after she'd added new rules! If he knew anything, he knew she was stubborn like her sister.

He had better things to do though, he reassured himself as he slunk along the wall of a recently abandoned apartment building. He could be finding the... the real one. Or taking out the common criminals.

Instead he found himself climbing a narrow staircase to the roof, stepping into the cool night air through steamy fog and crouching down at the edge of the building with bated breath. Her last clue led him there, of all places, to a hollowed out framework of a corner of the city scorched by fire. From his perch he observed the stark contrast of black streaks of ash smeared against neighboring structures, and the thin tendrils of smoke that came from still smoldering piles of debris.

He waited until the tips of his fingers were numb and his nose ran from the cold, eyes taking in every minuscule movement, and then he left as the warming fingertips of the sun reached across the early morning sky. She only played the game at night. It was useless to continue. Another night he had fed the obsession only to come back with nothing.

The second night he came expecting nothing. Perhaps he had misinterpreted the clue, or maybe this was another part of the game; to wait him out until he became too tired to play. That would be losing, and though he didn't quite know what that foretold, he was in no way willing to find out.

His answer came at midnight when he could hear the faint chimes of the old courthouse clock in the distance. After a few nights with little rest, he had begun to nod off but the hiss of a blade brought him to his senses and he came to his feet very quickly, hands struggling to notch an arrow as they shook from the cold.

"Still playing?" A voice asked from the shadows, laced with humor. "I'm impressed."

He looked around wildly, aiming through the darkness.

"So, Roy," the words cut smoothly through the night. "I hear you're working with the League now."

"Yes," he said. There was no use hiding anything from her.

"But, something else." A slim figure appeared on the opposite edge of the roof. "You're looking for something?"

"I found you," he said quietly.

"So you did, dear." She was advancing.

"I win."

"Really? Did you?" The curved grin of her mask caught the light. "I'm not sure we're both playing the same game."

He couldn't bring himself to let the arrow go. She'd tormented him so long, but then he faltered and his arms dropped to his sides. She was so close in that moment that he could feel the heat from her body and smell that overpowering scent washing over his senses. He might have pulled away, but he found himself frozen in place.

"I think I might have an idea of the kind of game you want to play..." Before he could respond, she was by his side with a long, thin blade pressed against his cheek.

She hummed quietly under her breath and he caught her eyes dart to his. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the knife was gone in the folds of her kimono. She pulled back her mask, an unreadable expression on her face, and Roy got the chance to take in the details of her face.

He had to admit, it was worrying. Jade Nguyen, the name he had found for her after quite a long time of research, was unpredictable at best. She was chaotic, with hardly any permanent alignments, and the only time she had any sort of self-control was when she was on a job. No matter the order, she followed it to the letter. Stealing? No problem. Killing? Easy, for a price. Was it duty or perhaps the only way she could keep a sense of sanity?

He was surprised when she didn't lean in to kill him quickly, but rather met his lips in a flurry of motion that caused him to flinch back. She continued until he relaxed into the kiss, the tense uncertainty in his limbs dissipating, and then both broke apart breathlessly. Roy stayed where he was, mouth half open and eyes locked with the assassin, willing himself to believe what he thought just happened. She'd been hinting at it since they first met, but he had convinced himself it was just a ruse, just another way she was playing with his brain.

Jade smiled at him from the perch she had retreated to. "Not what you were thinking?"

"Uh, no," Roy breathed. "Not at all."

"Well, if you don't like it I'm sure my superiors wouldn't mind it if I killed you," she said, and Roy realized her smile had never reached her eyes.

Roy shook his head slowly, and lowered himself to the ground to a sitting position. "I don't want to fight you," he said.

"Is that why you were following me around?" she asked, and she came from her spot and dropped down to sit in front of him.

"To be honest," Roy said quietly, "I'm not entirely sure why I followed you."

Jade took on a thoughtful expression and stared at him through half lidded eyes. "Curiosity, perhaps? You know what they say, little archer boy... Curiosity killed the cat."

"I don't see why I should be afraid, seeing as the only cat around here is you."

"Touché," she said. Jade reached out and grabbed his wrist, which had been resting comfortably in his lap, and drew it to rest by her feet.

"Hey," he said. He tried to pull it back, but Jade kept a strong grip on his arm and Roy was sure she could easily break it from that position. He stilled, and instead watched her face, hoping for clues. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, the edges curved up slightly, and her clear, dark eyes were intently focused on the lines of his hand. She looked up and caught him staring and the edge of her lips curled up more.

Jade pat his hand, placed it back in his lap, and stood up. "You'll be looking for the next clue tomorrow, I suspect," she said simply.

"Wait, what?"

She stepped back until she was facing him from the ledge of the roof. Jade gave a small, triumphant smile and then she dropped back off the ledge.

Roy rushed to his feet and flung himself at the parapet. He gripped the edges until his knuckles were white as he stared down from the building. There was no sign of the assassin down below; no hint she had even been there but the lingering smell of perfume and the memory of warmth on Roy's lips.


	2. A Meeting

It was merely a carefully maintained facade she had built for herself over the years, a clever way to ward off the little white lies and the snide remarks. She told herself it was for the better of her person. An assassin, a mercenary, could never afford to connect to the usual string of emotions, and she was no stranger to keeping them locked away within her soul with the strength of her hatred for those who threatened her peace. She'd done that enough when she was younger, when she still felt beyond her numb exterior as her father tore down the child and replaced it with the well wrought warrior.

It was blood that allowed her to succeed, not the sniveling mess her sister has broken into at the first sign of danger. Sportsmaster, for she dared not refer to him as anything else, had beaten her into an efficient piece of the machine. She had known the League of Shadows was her place before she could legally drive a car, not that her age had ever stopped her from flying down the side streets in a stolen vehicle.

And then there was Roy Harper, the only sidekick who had the guts to go out on his own. She had to owe it to him, he was cunning and stubborn, and he had managed to track her down to North Relasia well enough. She told herself that it was merely physical attraction that brought her back to watch him, but somewhere, in the deep recesses of her twisted mind, she could appreciate the other parts of what made him tempting.

He was loved. He had a family and friends, and none of them sought to kill him like her own had tried countless times. Roy never wanted for anything. Even after he'd gone off on his own, his mentor kept money streaming into his accounts. And Roy never once took advantage of anyone. He had a temper, but it was easily quelled and replaced with something else. That didn't make him weak, though. He was far from weak.

Jade was sure it was just a phase, that soon she would tire of the game and leave him scrounging around for nonexistent clues. That would be the day...

Her next clue was easier, not because she wanted him to find her, but because she was tired. At least, that's what she told herself.

Maybe she did want him to find her, just a little.

Maybe that was why she found herself walking down through the east side of town on a Saturday night, her bag filled with possibilities. She could think of a thousand ways to lure the archer in, and she'd already done it so many times. Last night was the first night she'd sought his company. All the times before she'd led him on with little more than the promise of the next clue for reward. This time, she'd stay with him a little longer. That is, if he was able to find her.

The east side was where the filth resided. Streets were lined with garbage and neon signs from bars, night clubs, and cabarets. It was all a bit cliche that the city had developed this way. Walking here reminded Jade of a movie she'd seen once. She hardly remembered the details, but the set-up of the east side brought along a sense of deja vu that she couldn't shake off.

It didn't matter what the city looked like, or how the people acted. Jade had long ago forgotten her fears of dark places and strange men. She embraced the delinquency of broken cities. They were all she knew. She'd grown up in Gotham, after all. There was little room for fear of shadows there.

She changed course at the street corner of Miles Avenue and 3rd, opting for a quieter street. She had left coordinates etched into the wall on the street near Roy's apartment. She never indicated which was which, or even that they were coordinates to begin with, but she figured he would be desperate enough to follow. He'd know it was her. She left her knife stuck within the mortar beneath her message. It never struck her how odd it was to continue this habit of leaving bits and pieces of her life in places for a, for all intentes and purposes, perfect stranger.

When at last she came across the place, she found a fire escape and scaled it to the roof. Once again she sat herself within the murkiness behind the roof exit and waited. It was one thing in the destroyed apartment building, but here it was whole and untouched by anything but the poverty of the city.

Roy arrived ten minutes later, coughing into his hand and shivering, but there nonetheless. Jade knew of his arrival before he appeared on the roof. His footsteps clanged on the metal fire escape and he cleared his throat a few times.

He must have been coming down with a cold. Jade didn't much care. It was his own fault for not being better prepared for the weather the past few nights. She waited until he stood out in the open, breathing heavily, until she showed herself.

"A little out of shape, aren't you?"

Roy's head shot up and he focused on her. His nose was running and his eyes were a watery red. "Thanks to you, I've had a bit of a row with the weather."

Jade stopped a few feet away from him. "Thanks to me? I've done nothing." She repeated in her mind that she didn't care. "You were the one that went and got yourself sick."

The archer muttered angrily under his breath, but did little else in the form of a response.

"How did you like my clue?" Jade asked.

Roy reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved Jade's knife. He held it, blade towards himself in a show of acquiescence, out to her. "I believe this is yours."

She blinked. "You may keep it."

He watched her carefully as he replaced it in his pocket. Roy Harper looked as if he had questions, but Jade was in no hurry to answer any, so she didn't bring it up. She waited, watching his expressions and movements while maintaining a detached presence. Roy seemed ready to speak half a dozen times, cutting of his own questions and opening and closing his mouth, before Jade let out an annoyed sigh.

"If you have something to say, say it, lover boy, before I lose my patience," she said coldly.

Roy looked up at her, anger in his expression, and clamped his mouth shut.

Jade let out a growl and lowered herself to the ground in front of him. He sunk down as well, though much less gracefully. "You're being immature," she said, quieter.

"You call leading me on a chase through who knows where mature?" he retorted.

"You're the one following me."

He was silent again for awhile. Jade closed her eyes, face still forward. She was listening. She could hear the sounds of the city below, still charging on without them. A group of men, drunks most likely, called out the a woman on the other side of the street. A police cruiser sped past, ignoring the nightlife on this street, no doubt for something else less important. With her senses tuned to hear the sounds below, she could hear his soft intake of breath before he spoke.

"Why do you do this?" he asked.

Jade said nothing for some time. She knew why, but it was not a reason she would normally say out loud. "Because you interest me," she said, eyes still closed.

Jade heard him sigh. "But why? Why me?"

She opened her eyes, meeting his. "Do I need to have a reason?"

Roy stared back, sniffing and rubbing his nose before leaning back and . "No, I guess not," he said finally. Jade watched him, puzzled by his actions, and then scooted next to him, laying on her back so that she was staring up, barely a foot between them. She'd let her guard down, but something told her he wouldn't try anything. A hush settled over the roof of the building.

After watching thin strands of clouds pass across the the face of the moon many a time, Jade glanced over at Roy to see his eyes had slipped closed. His chest was rising and falling steadily and she realized he'd fallen asleep. It probably didn't have anything to do with whether or not he was comfortable enough to trust her. He was sick, and probably hadn't slept in some time.

He was safe on the roof, though. She knew there wouldn't be any traffic here for a long time and she had no plans to try anything. Jade sat up, flicking her hair out of her face and exhaled, watching the small cloud of steam that came from her lips.

She glanced back at Roy, Something possessed her to lean over him. She cupped his face, pleasantly warm against her cold fingers, and brushed her lips gently with his. His eyes opened slowly, and he blinked as she drifted away.

"Watch for me tomorrow," she said quietly before padding to the edge of the roof. She knew he would be waiting.


End file.
